


if you get your hopes high (they'll crush you)

by Aria_Masterson1153



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: #Sorry, #but not really, But Pat's not having it, Fluffdown, Idiots in Love, Jonathan trying to take the highroad, M/M, break-ups, super corny at times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 02:26:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2133588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aria_Masterson1153/pseuds/Aria_Masterson1153
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><br/>Taking a few deep breaths, Pat calmly whispers: “lie to me, Jonny, if you have to.”</p>
<p>Pat thought that hearing him say it would have diminished this painful, hollow feeling that was slowly clawing its way across his chest.</p>
<p>It didn’t.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  Sorry about this guys. It's super cheesy, but ah well, I was in that kind of mood. :P
> 
> Song title is from 'What Can I Say' by the Colorists
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!  
> 

  
**(2011)**

They’ve done it. They’ve finally fucking done it.

No, not the cup, that was last season.

They’ve finally fucked. Ring the fucking church bells, because they’ve done it. After 4 years of stifling sexual tension, they’ve done the dirty and it was just as glorious as Pat had imagined. It was like everything in his NHL career was leading up to this one, amazing moment.

In his come-dumb state, Patrick rolls onto his side, so that he is facing Jonny in the bed. He burrows his hands under his pillow, and lays his head across the insides of his forearms. He observes Jonny, noticing that his face is slack in peace, compared to the tightness in his face that is a constant reminder of the high demands of games and practices. His eyes are shut, and Pat takes a moment to appreciate the length of Jonny’s eyelashes.

As if he can feel Pat’s stare, Jonny opens his eyes, and gives Pat a small, tranquil smile. Pat’s cheeks flush, realizing that he is caught staring.

“Hi,” Jonny whispers.

“Hi yourself,” Pat returns, not wanting to break the moment with a tone of voice above a hushed whisper.

“So,” Jonny murmurs, a soft laugh escaping him.

“Yeah,” Pat answers with a knowing smile.

“Have we finally pulled our heads out of our asses, then?” Pat questions, as Jon blearily glances up at him.

Jon answers him with a shy smile, but then, in split second, catches himself, and his face morphs into the calm, blank face that Pat has watched Jonny perfect over the past three years. Jonny quickly shifts his body away from Pat, throwing up the covers in the process.

It takes a couple of seconds for Pat’s brain to register what is happening, and when he eventually swivels his head toward Jonny, he is hunched over at the end of the bed, pulling on a pair of mismatched socks.

“Jon?” Pat questions quietly as he crawls towards the head of the bed. Stopping behind Jonny, he reaches out to splay his arms across the back of Jonny’s shoulders, but Jonny jerks away at the slightest touch. He regards Pat with wide, terrified eyes as he backs away from Pat, as if he was some disease-ridden being.

“No, Jon-- _please_ ,” Pat says as he slowly walks across the room with his hands lifted to the level of his eyes, as if he were approaching a startled deer.

“Pat, this shouldn’t have happened, we were doing so well..” Jonny trails off; looking disoriented as pulls on the short hairs at the back of his neck.

“It’s okay Jon, I’m here, everything will work out fine,” Pat consoles as he nearly reaches Jon.

“No, Pat, we’re risking our careers, our lifestyle, by doing this.” Jon visibly flinches. “Oh god, no one can know about this.”

“I have to leave,” Jonny continues as he reaches for the doorknob, face ashen in despair.

“Jonny, you can’t do this. Please, Jonny, I love you.” Pat says desperately, clutching at Jon’s wrist.

“ _Pat-_ ” Jonny starts, whispering brokenly, his voice catching from deep within his throat.

“If you don’t have the fucking balls to say it back to me, then lie.” Pat interrupts. “Because I love you Jon, I have since we did that stupid commercial back in rookie year. How _dare_ you try to find the coward’s way out of this and run away.” Pat seethes, practically shaking from anger.

“Pat, I can’t do this. Do you really want to throw your career away for some guy?” Jon questions, scuffing the tip of his big toe against the hardwood floor.

“Some guy? _Some guy?_ This is you we are talking about Jonny, not some random guy I picked up at a bar.” Pat furiously mutters, balling his hands up into tightly clenched fists.

“But Patrick, how do you really think that the league will react to two openly gay players on the same team, dating each other? I can’t lose our sport, Pat. I’ve made so many sacrifices for hockey already, what’s one more to that list?” Jon murmurs as he laughs bitterly.

“Jonny, you can’t do this to yourself, you can’t do it to me,” Pat whispers dejectedly. “Jon, I know that you love me. Say it Jonny, don’t deprive yourself of something else because of hockey. You already have hockey; you already have _me._ ”

“Pat, I can’t. I have hockey, but I don’t want to lose it. I can’t lose it. It’s all I have.” Jon says as he looks at Pat, sorrowfully earnest.

“Jon, you have me, you know that I’ll always be here.”

“But if I lose hockey, I lose you too. At least with keeping hockey, I can have you in some kind of form, even if it’s the furthest from what I want.”

“So that’s it then.”

“I guess so,” Jon exhales. “I just want you to know, that I want us; _you_ , so badly that I can hardly stand myself right now, but it’s the right move for us in this period of our lives. We can’t risk it Pat,” Jon murmurs as he reaches for the delicate skin of the inside of Pat’s wrist. He strokes it with smooth, but firm touches, that both convey Jonny’s sadness and his resolve.

“Jon, I need to hear you say it. Just this once, so I know that this is worth waiting for, that you’ll still be waiting for me.”

A troubled look clouds Jonny’s facial features. “I can’t Pat, not now. When I do say it, I want to be able to show it to you, not just say it,” he says as he stills the stroking on Pat’s wrist.

“Jonny, I couldn’t give less of a shit. I need to hear it coming from your mouth.” Pat evenly states, his voice carrying an edge.

“Pat-“

“Fucking lie if you have to! I don’t care! Just say it!” Pat frantically shouts, his blue eyes flashing a cobalt colour.

Taking a few deep breaths, Pat calmly whispers: “lie to me, Jonny, if you have to.”

Jonny says it.

Pat thought that hearing him say it would have diminished the painful, empty feeling that was slowly clawing its way across his chest.  
  
It didn’t.   



	2. Part 2

  
**(2013)**

He’s crying again.

And let it be known, Pat is not a cute crier. He’s the type that slobbers all over themselves in a mix of snot and tears. So, whenever he gets in this type of mood, he usually sticks to locking himself away from people. Case in point, locking himself in his oversized mansion in Buffalo, while Jonny’s up to god knows what in Winterpeg. Probably some fly-fishing, or bear hunting, whatever shit they get up to in the barren tundra that is more formerly known as Canada.

He won’t admit it to himself, probably from his overwhelming sense of pride, but he misses Jonny. Not like Jonny forcing him to attend optional practices, but more like his special smile for him; that perfect combination of fondness and exasperation that makes Pat’s stomach stir that little bit more.

But more importantly, he is lonely. He misses that jackass, and he’s sick of waiting. The worst part of it is that he could jump on the earliest flight to Winnipeg, and see Jonny at any point during the off-season. But - _in addition to being unpatriotic to the homeland_ \- visiting Jonny would just cause more problems for Pat in the future. A visit would only increase his yearning for Jonny, because it would be the two of them, out in woods, probably out fishing at some point. Pat’s not sure if he could keep himself in check with such high temptations, so it would really only cause problems in the long run.

Besides, at least he knows that he and Jonny are on the same page here. He knows what Jonny’s feelings for him are, and at this point, the only thing in their way is the league. Which is also where they make their living.

Fuck, here come the tears again.

It’s just not fair, y’know? Pat was happy, _really_ happy with Jon, and then Jon had to ruin it with his stupid logic.

He just wants Jonny. Now that he’s had a small little taste of a relationship with Jonny, he can’t stop thinking about it. It’s all he wants. The only one thing that he truly needs, and it can’t be bought with his never-ending cash flow. Oh, he can see the irony just fine, thanks.

He decides to work out, changing into his favourite periwinkle blue lululemon top and his most comfortable pair of shorts. They seem to brighten his spirits marginally, so he decides to stick to this workout idea.

He’s feeling especially self-deprecating today, so he decides to go for a nice, long run. Let it be known that he _hates_ running. He’s panting by the time he gets back, and feels that satisfying rush of endorphins, that make him feel like completing one of the workout circuits his trainers designed for him. _Or a nap._ Yeah, the nap idea sounded better to him as well.

But first, he decides, he’s going to give Jonny a call.

He hums the new Taylor Swift song as the phone dials, checking his nails over.

“Hello?” grumbles Jonny, half asleep.

“Jonny, you dick, what’s up?” Pat chirps, feeling more cheerful already.

Jonny apparently is not, because he heaves a deep sigh into the receiver. “What’s ‘ _up_ ’? Well, what’s _up_ for me right now is the ceiling. Because I’m in my bedroom. Taking a nap. Which you disturbed.”

“Oh, right. Uh, well, good morning?” Pat tries.

“Cut the shit Kaner, what do you want?”

“Nothing man, just wanted to see what you were up to in the tundra,” Pat smirks.

“Yeah, okay Pat. You’re too co-dependent to call me for no reason that isn’t benefitting you. I swear, you do this to everyone on the team, but somehow I’m the one left still taking your calls,” Jonny mumbles, exasperated.

“Fuck that noise,” Pat scoffs. “They’re not the ones I want to talk to anyways.”

“Aw Pat, is it me who you always want to talk to?” Jon says, and Pat can imagine him fluttering his eyelashes like the dickwad he is. A hot dickwad, but a dickwad nonetheless.

“Obviously,” Pat mutters, and can feel his cheeks begin to flame.

“So, listen, though this conversation is particularly riveting, I was being serious. What do you need?” Jon sounds more like his ‘media’ self, clear and pinched. He wonders if Jonny thinks he’s fucked up again in Buffalo.

“Nothing, I just want to see how you’re doing,” Pat mumbles, feeling embarrassed.

“Are you drunk? Pat, you promised not to start drinking until after 2pm!”

“Fuck you asshole, it’s fucking 10 o’clock in the morning here in Buffalo. Are you serious? Wait, _that’s_ a stupid question.” Pat grumbles. “Are _you_ drunk?”

“Pat, I just woke up from a nap,” Jon says as if it wasn’t obvious.

Which, yeah, it kinda is. “Yeah, you act pretty much the same after each. I guess it makes sense.”

Jonny heaves an exasperated sigh. “Seriously Pat, why did you call me? Is everything okay with you?”

“I don’t know, I guess,” Pat mumbles.

“Why, what’s wrong?”

 _I miss your voice. I miss everything about you, even the stuff that I thought I hated,_ Pat thinks sadly, as he wishes he had some alcohol near him to wash down the lump that’s beginning to form in his throat. But he’s being good now, and got rid of all the alcohol in his house. Somehow, he becomes even sadder after that realization.

Jonny is quiet on the other end. He sucks in a deep breath. “Pat?” He sounds soft, with a barely there streak of hope in his voice. Which means- _fuck,_ he said all of that out loud.

“Uh-“ Pat stutters out.

“Yeah,” Jonny responds, and Pat can feel his smile through his phone.

“Hey, so, you excited for the convention?” Pat tries, changing the subject abruptly to avoid another awkward pause.

Jon takes the bait, although reluctantly. “Um, yeah. We always have a good time each year. Uh, are you excited?” Jon tries, and Pat’s gotta commend him for at least trying.

“Yeah, man, totally,” Pat sighs as he shifts the phone in his hand. He squeezes his thigh with his other hand and tries to convince himself that he has the balls to do this.

“Uh, I’ve got to—start gardening; you know, pull some weeds. They’re really getting out of hand out there,” Pat tacks on a nervous laugh, and gives himself the mental equivalent of throwing a brick at his head for his stupidity.

Jon sighs, but doesn’t respond. “Okay Pat, good luck with the—gardening. Call me if you ever need to talk okay?”

“Okay, thanks man.” Pat punches himself in the thigh as he hangs up.

Well, that was a shitstorm, Pat thinks as he tugs on the curls at the back of his neck. Fuck, you’d think Pat would be able to handle a simple phone conversation with a guy he’s known for 7 years now.

He needs to talk to Jon again. He can’t just leave it at that. He’s not going to see Jon probably for another month, so if it happens to go south, he can just avoid Jon. But then again, that’s really what’s gotten them into this whole mess, isn’t it? Avoid and ignore, it seems like a constant cycle that they have, that just repeats, repeats, and repeats.

He is just so worn down from this whole routine, and he is sick of pretending. He is so tired of waiting for Jonny to decide when the ‘right time’ is. These past two years have already been hard enough for the two of them; Pat knows that he isn’t the only one who is incessantly staring across the locker room. So, if these two years have been so tough, then how are they going to make until whenever Jonny decides is the right time? Pat is beginning to panic, and he needs the reassurance of Jonny to help him calm down this time.

He begins to fidget, and tries to mentally calm himself down before he even thinks of picking up his phone again. He flexes his fingers, to stop them from incessantly tapping on his thigh.

Pat physically reigns himself in, and picks up his phone one more time and dials Jon’s number. He picks up the phone after the first ring.

“Pat? Are you okay?” Jon questions immediately.

“Lie to me again,” Pat interrupts in a soft whisper. “One last time Jon, please.”

“What?” Jon sounds confused, and Pat knows that Jonny is stressing that one crinkle above his brows, that seems to always be in effect when he is around Pat.

“You heard me Jon, _please_ ,” Pat begs.

Jon steadies himself, takes a deep breath, and says: “I love you, Pat.”

He can feel the effect those three words have on him, the way the warmth seeps into the hollow crevices in his body; how those words can fill him with life again. He feels his mouth begin to tug up into a small grin, and he hangs up the phone.

^*^*^*^

 _One day,_ Pat thinks. One day Jon’s going to say it, and he won’t have to lie. He won’t have to feel ashamed or in danger, due to another person’s close-minded views. One day, as they watch their jerseys rise to the rafters above the United Centre, they won’t have to hide. Pat will hold Jon’s hand, absentmindedly stroking the gold band adorning his left ring finger. Pat will look at Jon, with his love expressed clearly in his facial features, and tell Jon how proud he is. Of him, of them, and their legacy.

Pat’s never been more sure of anything in his life, other than he will make Jonny love him back freely.

He has to.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Ugh, sorry guys. But thank you for getting to this point, it means a lot <3.
> 
> And I promise, my other stories aren't as bad as this. I guess this is what you get when you drink too much redbull and can't sleep. :P
> 
> Love you all!
> 
> -Aria  
> 


End file.
